Take Us Back
by The Draconian Arrival
Summary: One more day at work and I would get to see my father again. A few more hours working on cars and I could go home. We could all sit down and be a family again, just like we used to. I could ask my parents about keeping Bear, and tell them about my thoughts of moving out. That's how I wanted my day to go. I'd give anything if I thought it might take us back to those familiar times.


The car hood slams shut under my hands. Slumping forward and leaning against the closed hood I stare down at my hands and sigh loudly. I'd hoped to go home at least kind of clean today. A quick look at my hands tells me that isn't going to happen. My grey jumper, the shop uniform, pushed up a little from my wrists now exposes a little less than half of my forearms. You almost wouldn't know it for all the exhaust, grime and oil that clung to the skin. I wasn't about to doubt that my face could look about the same after spending the last couple hours buried in this car's engine.

"Hey, Al!"

The familiar voice catches my attention. Straightening my back I move to push my goggles up onto my forehead. That small space around my eyes may likely be the only clean part of my face left. Even before I can turn around to look at him I feel his heavy hand on my shoulder. He has such broad, fat hands I always find myself wondering how he manages to work half the time.

"Yeah?" I answer and turn my head to see him over my shoulder.

His hand picks itself off my shoulder and plants itself back down on my head. He gives me a quick shake and smiles. It's nothing unusual; save for the fact that today's ruffling of my hair is a bit more rough than normal. He smiles again, this time in that crooked way of his that lets me know I've done good.

That's my boss for you. I've never asked him his exact age but his face looks to be somewhere in his late forties and he's got dark hair that's finally given in to age and started thinning out at the top. He's got a broad frame and more than a little excess weight hanging around but I have difficulty picturing him without it.

"We're gonna start closing up shop for the day soon. Why don't you head home, get washed up, get some rest. You look exhausted."

"I knew it." I smile back, though mine is pretty lack luster next to his. I'm feeling pretty tired so it's no surprise. But I guess he thought I was funny because his smile stretches wider (if that's possible) and he laughs.

He ruffles my hair again before removing his hand and letting it fall back to his side. "Your dad comes home today, right?" I nod. That is right; my father is finally supposed to be coming back from his business trip today. Today will be the first time in two years that I've gotten to see him. "All the more reason." My boss says. "You've been working hard the last couple weeks, too. Go home and relax. A young girl like you shouldn't be wearing yourself out like this."

If you hadn't already guessed it, there you go. Yeah, I'm a girl. I turned nineteen a few months ago, not long before scoring this job. Al is the nickname I've been given around the shop by my male co-workers. I guess it just sounded better to them than calling me Alyss. It wasn't a big deal and it never bothered me. To them I was just Al: another employee working part-time at Shale's Auto Garage. In some ways I actually took comfort knowing they were comfortable enough around me to be calling me that, especially given how stand-offish I know I was when I started.

"Thanks." I don't really know what else to say to that beyond a simple thank you. Do I need to say anything else? Wait. There was something. "Hey, Mark?" I call out just as my boss, Mark Shale, starts to walk away.

He peers back at me over his shoulder. One look is all he needs to see that I want to say something, I guess. He stops and turns back around so he's facing me fully.

"About that thing I asked you about last week." I scratch the back of my head awkwardly as I try to think of how to say it. "I just wanted to know if you'd thought about it since then." He brings his hand up to rub his chin for a moment in thought. No doubt he's trying to figure out what I mean with my bumbling attempt at a question.

I'm about to give up and quickly remind him when, as if on cue, he snaps his fingers and puts on a look that tells me he figured it out on his own. "Ah, that's right." He says. For a moment he says nothing else and I start wondering. Is his answer a yes? Is it a no? My mind leans toward the latter and my face drops as I start imagining to various ways that could go.

"We'll talk all about your apprenticeship tomorrow on your lunch break."

The words pick me up out of my pessimistic thoughts and I guess I must be positively beaming because I felt my face stretch almost uncomfortably and Mark bursts out into laughter in front of me. He reached out, giving me one last rough shake on the head. My goggled are knocked down off my forehead and fall down lopsided on the bridge of my nose.

"Go home. Rest. Wash up. I'll see you here bright and early tomorrow." With that he turns and walks away, one hand held up over his shoulder in a lazy wave goodbye. I stand there another few seconds, grinning stupidly to myself before I manage to collect myself and start collecting my things to head home.

I arrive home a little under an hour later. For the most part the ride was uneventful. Traffic was slowed down to a crawl about half way by an accident but that was it. Riding by I'll admit it was pretty gnarly looking. The two cars were completely totaled. Police were trying their best to split their attention between ushering the passing vehicles onward and the accident itself. There were two ambulances there. One had a young man sitting on the back lip between the two open doors. He had been cradling his right arm in his other hand. He'd had this panicked look on his face that was easy to spot even as I rode by.

The sound of a dog barking breaks me away from my thoughts. Kicking down the kickstand of my motorcycle I peel off my helmet and look down into the familiar mug.

"Hey there, buddy." I say as I climb off the bike and kneel down in front of him. "How are you doing today?" I rub his head and scratch behind his ears and he makes his enjoyment clear as he leans into it. If he were a cat I have no doubt he would be purring right about now. He's not my dog, unfortunately. He might as well be, though, for all the stuff I do to take care of him. No, sadly he's just a stray living in the alley behind my house. He's a pretty big dog, with medium length black fur. And despite all my efforts to keep him brushed out and looking at least like he might be someone's pet, his fur is still matted to hell.

For a mutt he's pretty cute. It would be nice to figure out what breed he is, but even my mother can't seem to figure it out. Given her profession as a pet groomer it's pretty surprising. Together we've been able to think up possibilities but nothing solid. Right now we're thinking he could be a lab, shepherd, or husky cross.

"Wait right here, 'kay, bud? I'll head in and get you something to eat." I pat him on the head again and stand up to walk into the house. He starts whining. I pass it off as him wanting more attention and start walking. He bites my jacket sleeve and yanks me back. Confused, I stop and kneel down beside him again. "It's alright." I tell him. "I'm just gonna get you some food. I'll be right back." He whines again but makes no more attempts to stop me as I walk inside.

The front door swings shut behind me and immediately something feels a little off. It's usually pretty quiet around here with my mother and I both working days. But today with dad coming home, mom was all excited and had the day booked off so she could make us all something nice to eat for our first family dinner together in a long while.

I make my way over to the kitchen and the sweet smell of food fills my nose. It's a pleasant change from the smell of exhaust, oil and sweat I get at work. There's a note on the fridge, one I distinctly remember not being there when I left this morning.

_Went to pick up your father from the airport. Remember to take dinner out of the oven._

_Love, Mom_

I find myself smiling once I finish reading the note. Dad will be home soon and so will mom. It will be our first real time spent together in two years. I can't deny that I'm excited for it. I set the note down on the counter and stoop down to fish through the cabinets for a can of dog food. I bought some with my last pay check and clearly I'm going to have to buying some more pretty soon. There are only a few more cans left. I pull the tab and peel the tin open and pout the contents into the dish we normally use for our favourite stray. With the dish in hand I walk back over to the door and push it open.

"Bear?" I call out for the dog. I don't see him sitting in the front yard anymore but soon enough I do hear him barreling up from the side of the house. He barks happily and hardly seems to even notice the food as he stands up, front paws pressed to my chest and licks my face. I can't help but laugh even as I'm pushed back against the door. "Hey, hey, calm down, boy." I push his face away with my free hand and get him back down on all fours. Then, holding the dish above him I say, "Lookie what I got for ya." He barks and backs up to give me room to walk forward. I take it and set the dish down a few feet away from the door. He plunges his face into it and eats like he hasn't had food in days.

I rub between his ears and stand up to head back in. Much as I'd like to sit out here with Bear for a while I need to get myself cleaned up for when my parents get home. Bear, taking notice of my direction, looks up from his dish and barks.

"It's alright, boy. I'm just gonna wash up." My answer doesn't seem to please him. His ears fold back against his head and he starts whining. I raise a curious eyebrow but walk back inside anyway. I don't know what's making him act so weird but there's probably nothing I can really do about it right now anyway. Right now all I need to worry about is getting all this black crud off of me.

I'm shivering as I turn the knob to cut off the water. Cold as it was the shower was just what I needed. Feeling clean and awake I step out and quickly dry myself off with a towel. The change of clothes I'd brought with me into the washroom sit in messy pile on the counter. Once dry I start pulling them on, one piece at a time.

Wet hair lands with a solid slap on my shoulders. I guess I might as well dry that, too. The hairdryer roars to life and I set it to the dark, wet mass hanging off my head. Over it I can hear Bear barking outside. He must have run up beside the house again. It's probably best to just ignore him for now and finish what I'm doing. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can get dinner out of the oven and then go give him the attention he's after.

A quick brush through and I deem my appearance satisfactory. I look clean and that's good enough for me. Pushing past the washroom door I step out into the hall and start heading back to the kitchen when something catches my attention. The house had been dead silent when I hopped into the shower. Now, though, I could hear something else. It sounded almost like… growling? Did Bear get inside somehow? No. It couldn't be Bear. It didn't sound at all like him. This sounded a lot more someone gurgling than it did like an angry dog.

My eyes wander over to my parents' bedroom door.

Oddly enough the door is closed. Usually mom leaves it open when she's not in there. Did they get home while I was in the shower? Without much thought I walk over and turn the knob to open the door. "When did you guys get home? And where's dad? I need to-" The door opens into the room and my voices catches in my throat as I'm greeted by a sight I don't think I'll ever forget.

The first thing to catch my eye is the blood spattered on the bed sheets and the body it surrounds. I can't make out the face. It's been smashed in by something. There's a lamp lying on the floor beside the bed with its base stained red. My smile stretches and strains as I take in the sight. I want to scream. I want to slam the door shut and bolt back outside. Another gurgle from across the room keeps my feet frozen to the floor.

Slowly I draw my eyes away from the male body down to the floor at the foot of the bed. I see a hand first. It claws at the carpet and drags itself forward. A head of hair comes into sight and I finally find my voice.

"… M-mom?"

There's no doubt. That's my mother's face. I saw her just last night. There's no way I'd forget it. But there's something off about it. She looks pale, like she's sick. My mother picks herself up off the floor when her eyes land on me. Her shoulders are slumped and her head lolls forward. It's scaring me.

Why do I feel scared of my own mother?

I let go of the door knob and take one cautious step out of the room. Then another one. I pull the door closed in front of me. I'm just in time. I hear another gurgling cry and I can only guess my mother threw herself at the door because I feel a heavy weight slam against it and push it the rest of the way shut. I stumble back into the opposite wall. On the other side of the door I can hear something that doesn't sound like my mother growling and attacking the door.

The wood starts to splinter.

I don't realize I picked myself off the wall and went to the kitchen until I'm already here. There's a knife in my hand. What am I thinking? That's my mother! I can hear the bedroom door give way behind me and whatever thought I was having is gone just like that.

"Mom…" I call out as I watch the thing limp out into the hall. "I-I don't want to hurt you… Mom?" I say that but I'm holding the knife in both hands, arms rigidly putting it between myself and her. Outside Bear is barking again. I can hear him clawing at the front door in a frantic attempt to get inside.

The thing stalks closer. Its mouth hangs open as it slowly moves toward me. It starts growling and I can see what's coming. I'm about to end up just like that door. She's only a few feet away when she leans forward with arms outstretched for me.

What happens after that is something I'd rather forget, and know that I never will.

A wet nose nudges at my hands and I can hear Bear whining. Slowly I peel my hands away from my face. They're wet from tears. Bear pushes his face in through that little space and licks my face repeatedly.

"Bear…" I'm almost surprised by how quiet my voice comes out, and surprised again when I shout. "Bear!" I wrap my arms around the mutt's neck and bury my crying face in his fur. He's matted, filthy, and he smells horrible, but I don't care. He's here, and that's all I want from him.

So long as he's here I don't have to look at the body lying in the middle of the room, or the knife still jutting out of its head.


End file.
